Share via

Whenever I go back to one of the many bits of London in which I used to live
before I moved to the bit of London in which I live now, they always seem to
have become an awful lot nicer.

With some places, this seems fair enough. It’s gentrification, isn’t it? On my
old street in Brixton, for example, the crack dealers used to gather in
pods, and the chap who lived opposite was thrown out of his own
second-storey window after being shot, presumably by one of them. These
days, that same street offers seven different genres of